Twilight's Last Gleaming
by designcandy
Summary: Alfred's secession has caused Arthur to spiral into depression and alcoholism. But is it possible that Alfred really does care about him, and that he's just feeling hurt too? Revolutionary War/Post Revolution setting.
1. The Storm

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 1**

 _This is essentially a story which delves into the psychology behind the Revolutionary War. The story begins on July 4th, 1777, one year after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I don't want to say any more because I'll wreck the plot! Enjoy!_

 _(Hetalia is not mine, neither are the characters.)_

 ** _A note to new readers - this story is only rated M due to graphic violence!_**

* * *

It was 10 pm in London England, and the figure of a single man could be seen walking down the street. There was no one else around to be seen, since the rest of the city had heeded the storm warning. No, there was no hurricane coming, but the citizens had been warned of a particularly severe rainstorm, complete with flash-flooding, and were all safe inside their houses waiting it out. The figure was trudging through half a foot of storm water, but didn't seem to notice. Icy cold rain pelted the top of his blonde head, and he was completely soaked from head to toe. Arthur had been planning to go to the local pub, but to his despair it had been closed due to the weather. Lately, Arthur was never sober. He was drinking to forget. Since Alfred had declared his independence a year ago, Arthur had been like this. For Arthur, losing Alfred was like losing a limb. Suddenly, he looked up at the dark blue summer sky. His green eyes were dull and seemed to have no life to them at all. Tonight, he didn't need alcohol anyway. Tonight was the one year anniversary of Alfred's freedom, and over the past year Arthur had felt so much pain that to suddenly think of it all at once had a numbing effect on him. He was way past the point of crying. Suddenly, he tripped and fell into the water. Sitting there partially submerged, he didn't bother to get up. He was shivering now from the icy cold rain water, but he didn't feel cold at all. That's how numb he was.

"Alfred, why don't you get it?" he mumbled under his breath. "I...I love you."

Suddenly, through the heavy rain a dull yellow light appeared. The light got brighter and brighter until out of the darkness, a horse-drawn carriage appeared. The carriage stopped at Arthur, and produced a splash of water as it did so, making Arthur even more wet. Sitting in the carriage seat was a man with brown hair, brown eyes, and a rude expression. The man stepped out and grabbed a hold of Arthur's arm.

"Come on you fool, you're going to get yourself sick", he said. "I don't know what you would do without Veneziano and I."

Arthur looked up at the Italian man, but his face still had the same, dull expression. He didn't reply, but allowed the man to drag him into the carriage. Then, off they went into the night.

Lovino Vargas stepped out of the carriage, and yelled loudly at the driver to put the horses away for the night. They had arrived at Lovinos home, a small English Tudor house with a thatched roof. He owned this house in England, and visited occasionally. Lovino opened the door for Arthur, and told him to come inside and get warm. Arthur compliantly walked into the living room, and stood in front of the hearth. Lovino went off to get Arthur a pair of clean pajamas as Arthur stripped down to his bloomers, and hung up all of his wet clothing in front of the fire. Lovino reappeared and handed Arthur the pile of clean clothes.

"Don't go getting them dirty", Lovino said a bit grumpily.

Then Lovino went into the kitchen, to make a pot of tea for them both. Arthur got dressed, then sat down on the couch in a daze, shaking from the cold and staring out the window into nothingness as the rain poured down. The teapot whistled, finally snapping Arthur out of it. He turned around his head and met Lovinos eyes. Lovino surprisingly looked concerned. All the other nations knew Arthur had a problem. He no longer had sober days. In fact, he never seemed to be sober anymore. Every so often one of his friends would come by to check up on him, and they would always see practically the same thing every time. Either Arthur would be passed out on the couch, or he would be just barely conscious, his bloodshot and sleep-deprived eyes still open and staring blankly. Bottles littered the floor and never seemed to be cleaned up. When Feliciano visited, he would hug Arthur while he cried. Lovino also occasionally helped Feliciano take care of Arthur. Antonio would try to cheer up Arthur by taking him out for boat rides. Even Francis dropped off flowers a few times. Alfred never visited, or even wrote Arthur, and the other nations suspected that that was the cause of Arthur's depression. While in one of his drunk stupors, he would occasionally call out Alfred's name and then burst out into tears.

Lovino walked over with the tea tray, and sat down on the coach next to Arthur. There were two teacups, one for each of them. The two men sipped their tea in silence as the fire crackled. That is, until Arthur broke the silence. He set down his cup with a sigh, and looked over at Lovino.

"I don't like this", he said.

"What don't you like?", inquired Lovino.

"I don't like you seeing me like this", Arthur replied. "I don't like anyone seeing me like this."

There was silence again. Then Lovino turned back towards Arthur and asked a question that he had been wondering for quite some time.

"Do you by any chance have any...romantic feelings for Alfred?"

Arthur sputtered and choked on his tea. He look a bit shocked and taken aback. Yet again, there was a pause in the conversation. The two men sat quietly in the soft glow of candlelight. Finally Arthur spoke up.

"To be honest, yes I do."

He then set down his tea on the tray and buried his face in his hands. Lovino looked awkwardly at Arthur, unsure of how to comfort him.

"I always thought you were gay. Well whatever, just don't hit on me or anything." He paused for a moment, then added "I think Spain is too actually."

Arthur looked up and actually chuckled a bit, for the first time in a while.

"Well that's no surprise. Look at how tight he wears his breeches."

"One more thing. That Alfred is not worth crying over. He is a heartless bastard, to completely desert you like this after you were friends for so long. I HATE him."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, I really think that if he cared in the slightest, he would have contacted you at least. Maybe he would have sent a letter or two."

Now Arthur and Alfred had never been together as more than friends. Alfred never seemed to be interested in Arthur romantically, but platonically instead. That is, until they started having their fights, and even their friendship was ruined, as well as the relationship between their two countries. Alfred was a young, free spirit and needed independence. That last day, it had been raining, just like it was tonight. The two were facing each other on the battlefield, and Alfred had told Arthur that he was seceding. Then Alfred watched as Arthur fell down on his knees and cried, and did not comfort him. It was certainly the worst day of Arthur's life.

Lovino sighed as Arthur fiddled with his pocket watch and looked forlorn. Lovino could tell that Arthur was reliving that day. Then Arthur looked up at Lovino.

"You're probably right." He then smiled sadly. "I should be trying to get over him."


	2. Memories

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 2**

 _Hello again everyone and Merry Christmas! (This is my Christmas present to you all)._

 _So I have been really developing where this plot is going to go and I've decided to keep it as historically accurate as possible, but it won't be completely accurate. (Please don't murder me in my sleep for the inaccuracies!) Also I apologize that this story is a bit depressing; but I promise that it will not have a sad ending._

* * *

Arthur was sitting in his closet of memories in his house, amongst boxes and boxes of old paintings, newspaper articles, and relics. He was sifting through some scrapbooks at the moment. Up until now, Arthur had avoided this room completely. The room was therefore filled with dust and cobwebs. As he turned the pages of the scrapbook, a musty smell wafted up into his face. He sighed. This particular book was filled with objects from Alfred's childhood. He turned another page and smiled at a fishing hook, taped to the page. Alfred was always a very strong child. Arthur had taken Alfred out fishing, and Alfred had caught a giant fish, one that was as big as he was. Alfred proceeded to reel it in all by himself, then hoist the monstrous fish over his head proudly. Arthur turned another page. This one had a dry piece of seaweed and a seashell taped to it. Alfred and Matthew had been playing together at the seashore. Alfred had buried Matthew up to his neck in sand as Matthew looked worried. Arthur turned yet another page. Now it was a candle from Alfred and Matthew's eighth birthday party. Arthur went through the pages, smiling as he relived the old memories. Finally Arthur got to the very last page in the book. This page had a leaf, from when Arthur and Alfred had taken a stroll through the woods together on a nice day. Arthur closed the book and slumped over. This event happened shortly before they had started having a lot of fights. Alfred and Arthur had a strange history. Arthur raised Alfred, but Alfred was not actually Arthur's biological son. He just looked like him. Arthur had a lot of love for Alfred then too, but it was the normal type that any doting parent would have for their child. Then Alfred got older, and the relationship between the two of them turned into more of a friendship. Alfred even moved out. The two hung out like friends would do. Finally, when Alfred became full-grown, Arthur started developing romantic feelings for Alfred. At the time, the feelings disturbed Arthur. However, France told him that nations aren't like people, and that the feelings were acceptable. Nations live forever, and once they reach adulthood they don't age, so Arthur's feelings for Alfred weren't creepy in a pedophilic way. Also, since Arthur wasn't Alfred's true father, it wasn't incest. The friendship was blissful for quite a while, although Arthur of course had unrequited feelings. However, things took a turn for the worse. Even though the two were basically just good buddies after Alfred became older, Arthur felt the need to control Alfred. He still treated him like he was a child occasionally. One day, Alfred got so angry at Arthur that he slapped him. It was the start of the arguments. Arthur closed his eyes as he sat on the floor, and remembered that day. Alfred had told Arthur that he wanted to go out drinking at the local pub with some friends, and Arthur told him no.

Alfred broke down and yelled at him "You never let me make any of my own choices! You think that my life is something that doesn't belong to me, but to you! I'm an adult now so shut your goddamn mouth and mind your own business!"

Arthur had responded by saying "Well you're a complete and utter fool so I need to make sure you don't do stupid things!"

By this time, the two of them were glaring angrily at each other, with their fists clenched.

Alfred had then asked him "STILL! Is it any of your business?! Is anything my country does your business?! And is it really necessary to tax us to death when you don't even have representatives in my country?! We are a country you know, we're not part of the UK! I don't want anything to do with you!"

Arthur turned bright red and made a growling sound then yelled "I TAKE CARE OF YOU AND THIS IS THE RESPECT I GET?!"

Alfred slapped Arthur hard across the face then, creating a loud smacking sound, and leaving a mark on Arthur's face. "YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT RESPECT!", Alfred yelled.

Arthur remembered he had looked at Alfred in shock, because Alfred had never hurt him intentionally before. The two men stared each other down, breathing heavily and glaring daggers. Finally Alfred turned around and left the room, giving Arthur one last withering look before taking his leave. A tear rolled down Arthur's face and hit the floor. Everything had been so perfect before then. He found yet another scrapbook. This one was filled with memories of the two of them together as adults, doing fun things. The first page had a painting of a pier and a sunset. It had been Alfred's twenty-first birthday that day and Arthur had taken Alfred out to the beach. The next was an opera ticket. The two of them went with Francis to an opera a couple of years back. Arthur remembered having a splendid time. Arthur's tears fell down onto the pages as he remembered happier times. Things used to be a lot better back then. He managed to turn one last page before he broke down completely. The next item was a pressed flower. Alfred and Arthur had been outside, lounging about in the nice weather and Alfred found one of Arthur's favorite wildflowers, Queen Anne's Lace. Alfred had crossed a stream and gotten himself all wet just so that he could pick the flower on the other side for Arthur. Arthur had thought that it was a bit of a childish thing to do, but he had found it very cute when Alfred returned to him, soaked from the knees down but grinning like a fool as he clutched the flower in his hand. Arthur remembered wanting to kiss him then. Now none of these wonderful things would ever happen again. Arthur sobbed violently, and tossed the book on the other side of the room. Pages scattered everywhere as the book hit a wall and tore apart. His heart literally ached as he cried. Losing such a good friend was one thing, but Alfred was much more to Arthur. He had fallen deeply and hopelessly in love with the sweet boy that he had raised.

Arthur sat there in the closet for quite some time, until finally all of his tears were gone. He sniffled one last time, then came to the conclusion that he needed a distraction. Luckily for him, tomorrow he was going on another boat ride with Antonio. Feliciano and Romano would be there as well. Arthur got up, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and crawled in bed. He had a feeling that tomorrow would be a better day. Romano was right, he just needed to get over Alfred, and to do so, he needed to be around his friends and have fun.


	3. Sailing

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 3**

 _Hello again! I don't have much to say this time except for one thing. I won't be able to update this story as often as I have been anymore, because I am going to be starting a new job soon. Just thought I'd warn you. However, don't think that means that I will stop writing! I am getting really into this story!_

* * *

Arthur took a deep breath and closed his eyes, smelling the ocean's salty smell as he strolled leisurely down the pier. He had just recently arrived by carriage at England's largest harbor, and was walking to Antonio's boat, which was in the distance. It was a large, impressive wooden boat with a deck, sleeping quarters, and plenty of storage space. It had been on many journeys, to many exotic places. Antonio had an adventurous, gypsy spirit and was always wanting to go to interesting places and even to discover new ones. Today, he would be taking Arthur and the Italy brothers to an island known as the Isle of Man, off the coast of England. Arthur had never been there before and was looking forward to it. As Arthur got closer to the boat, he noticed Antonio standing at the stern, waving at him. Arthur smiled and waved back.

"Lovino look it's Arthur! It's Arthur! He's here!" Shouted a voice with an Italian accent. Arthur knew who that was.

Arthur stopped when he reached the boat and looked up at Antonio. He was probably about 30 feet up above him, since the boat was massive.

"Well are you going to put down the steps so I can get up you git?" Arthur said jokingly as he smirked.

"Oh! Yes, yes, sorry!" Antonio replied, as he laughed.

Antonio lowered the steps and Arthur climbed all the way up until he was standing on the deck of the boat.

"Arthur! It's so nice to see you again!"

"Yes it's been far too long." Arthur replied before he was hugged violently from behind by a certain Italian man.

"Ve! Arthur I'm so glad you could join us!"

"Come this way, there is supper ready for us" Said Antonio as he beckoned Arthur to come down the stairs into the kitchen and eating area. Sitting there at the table was Lovino, stuffing his face with tomatoes.

"Hey! I didn't say you could eat yet!" Said Spain with a slightly annoyed tone of voice. Lovino just glared at him and continued filling his cheeks with as much food as possible. Spain sighed. "Anyway, there is plenty of food for everyone. I even have some cooked pheasants which I shot myself yesterday."

Lovino burped and put his feet up on the table. "Actually I shot them, this bastard can't shoot for his life."

"Lovino don't be so rude." Said Feliciano.

Antonio could tell that this would be a long day.

* * *

Arthur felt relaxed as he swung gently back and forth in the cotton hammock. He had just had a lovely supper and was lounging about on deck as Antonio steered and Lovino and Feliciano played darts. The end of the ship's deck was fairly close to Arthur. As he lay down, he could look up at the sails, or left out into the brilliant blue ocean water. Arthur closed his eyes and listened to the creaks and groans of the wooden ship, the lapping of the waves, the crying of the seagulls, and the soft laughter of Feliciano as he was beating Lovino at darts. This was the life. Arthur loved going on boat trips with Antonio. It reminded him of his pirate days, and he loved both the quiet and peace of smooth seas, as well as the rowdy atmosphere between crew members. He listened intently as Antonio told his shipmates to put down all of the sails, and to be on the lookout for the island in the distance. He suddenly realized that he hadn't been thinking of Alfred at all. Then he realized that now he was thinking of him. He frowned, realizing that the peace was over.

"Ay, you ok there mate?" Asked a rough-looking crew member with a long beard and lots of missing teeth.

"Yes, I just feel a little seasick." Lied Arthur.

"Oh ok well the waves seem to be dyin' down a bit now that the wind is dyin' down."

Arthur turned his head around and smiled weakly at the man before turning his whole body over to the other side, away from the others and towards the water. He didn't want anyone to see if he were to start crying. Now that Arthur was with Lovino, he was thinking about the advice that he had given him. Lovino had advised Arthur to try to not cry over Alfred, since Alfred wasn't worth it. Arthur clenched his fists and bit his lip as he held in the tears. His old friend had caused him so much pain, and honestly, didn't seem to care or even notice. A good friend would not abandon another friend completely. A good friend would not cause him so much pain either. Also, he realized he should not still have romantic feelings for Alfred after all of this. Suddenly, something within Arthur changed. His fists relaxed, and a gleam of hatred appeared in his eyes, which were now narrowed. The need to cry disappeared. Then Arthur heard footsteps behind him.

"Hey Arthur! I'm going to go fetch a barrel of rum from the hold. I think we should all have a little story-telling session tonight as we drink! It's going to be great! The two of us can share our pirate stories with Feliciano and Lovino. Feliciano has been begging me for ages to tell him about the time that I thought I saw a kraken. I'm going to have one of the men take the wheel until I've sobered up. By the way, we should be reaching the island a bit late tonight, I hope you don't mind. If you get tired before we arrive, feel free to go to sleep in one of the guest chambers."

Arthur rolled back over and put on a normal face. "Sounds great to me, and thank you Antonio, I may take your offer up on that."

"Wonderful!" Antonio said as his tanned face lit up and his green eyes seemed to smile. "Feliciano and Lovino are over there sitting on those crates, waiting."

With that, Antonio left. Arthur stood up slowly and stretched. Then he sauntered over to the brothers.

"Ve! Arthur! Can you make sure to tell me about the time that you came across the cannibal tribe? And also don't forget about the story with the storm that threw half of your crew overboard! Antonio said that you saved a man that night too! And that you steered the boat out of the storm with a broken arm!" Feliciano looked up at Arthur with his eyes open and sparkling.

"Yes of course. Let's wait for Antonio to come back first."

* * *

One hour later, the four men were roaring with laughter, with red glows across their cheeks from the rum.

"And then, I said to Antonio "That kraken is more handsome than you are!"" Yelled Lovino as Feliciano and Arthur cracked up.

"I hope you didn't mean that." Said Antonio, looking a bit forlorn.

Lovino looked at Antonio from his seat next to him and smirked. "No I didn't, you're actually a pretty good-looking bastard." Then Lovino leaned over and kissed Antonio quickly on the cheek. Antonio blushed insanely and looked shocked as the other two fell out of their seats with laughter.

"Dear god, now I know why Francis said getting Lovino drunk was amusing." Noted Arthur as he lay on the floor of the boat. "Guys, no one tell Lovino about this later, ok?"

Then as Arthur lay there, he noticed something that fell out of his pocket. It was a small painting of Alfred, done by Feliciano, which he must have left in there ages ago and forgotten about. The alcohol was influencing his mind and making his emotions go wild. In a split second, Arthur had his pocket knife out and had stabbed Alfred's forehead.

"Arthur what are you doing?!" Exclaimed Antonio, with a fearful tone of voice. Feliciano and Antonio rushed over. When Antonio saw the knife and where it was, he grabbed up Arthur. "Alright time for bed Arthur, I'll let you know when we make landfall."

"LET GO OF ME! *hic* YOU IGNORANT TWAT!"

"I can't, it's for your own good."

* * *

Arthur woke up with a major headache a few hours later. He sat up and groaned as he held his head in his hands.

"Arthur." Said Feliciano quietly, with a shaky voice. "I am worried about you."

"What did I do?"

Feliciano showed Arthur the painting with the knife sticking out of it. Arthur's eyes widened and then suddenly he put his head down and curled up into a ball.

"I don't really want to hurt him like that. EVER."

"I know. It was the alcohol."

Feliciano came and sat down on the bed next to Arthur to give him a hug. Arthur didn't push him away. Usually he didn't like hugs, but Feliciano's hugs were special. Arthur looked up and sighed as he looked into Feliciano's worried eyes.

"However, I do want to put him in his place. This is war now."


	4. Sparks In the Night

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 4**

 _Well I have managed to survive my first few days at work. (Yay!) And now I'm back to bring you all chapter 4. Btw, this particular chapter is inspired by actual historical events during the Battle of Long Island, the first major battle after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Therefore, some parts of Arthur's battle plan are not original. Characters are still not mine. Also, the rating has been changed to M due to violence. Enjoy!_

 _Btw, has anyone else ever looked up "fanfiction" on urban dictionary?I did yesterday and I was very sad and disgusted to see how judgmental people are. Like it's ok that some people might not like anime, or a certain TV show, or just fanfiction in general, but they can choose to not be a part of it if it bothers them so much. It shouldn't bother them so much what other people do. And idk I'm just like...:/ (Sorry for the rant.) But does it bother you guys too how people judge fanfiction and say that it's poorly written, plagiarized smut? Let me know in the comments._

* * *

It was the day of the first battle. Arthur had spent a week perfecting the perfect plan of attack. During that week, he hardly slept or ate. His obsession with winning and with putting Alfred in his place took precedence over everything, even his own health. Then when Arthur was certain that nothing could possibly go wrong, he and his men sailed to America. In fifty days time, after a relatively uneventful voyage, they made landfall on Staten Island, a small island separated from Long Island by a channel of water. Now, the men were gathered around a campfire, in front of a sea of tents. It was dusk, and Arthur was standing behind the campfire in his red general's suit and cape. A hat with a large white feather adorned his head.

"LISTEN UP MEN!" Arthur yelled. The troops fell silent, and stood at attention. "Tonight is the start of a new era for our country, England! Tonight, we teach the American scum where they stand in the ranks! Also, we will teach them respect! We have only tried to protect them, and what do they do? THEY REBEL! Too long England has struggled with this tiny, baby country which claims it can survive on its own. I laugh sometimes at how powerful they think they are. NO ONE CAN DEFEAT ENGLAND! WE ARE ROYALTY, WE ARE DESTRUCTION AND WE ARE THE ULTIMATE POWER! Their egos are much too big, and today we will show them that they are weak! WE WILL FORCE THEM TO BOW DOWN TO US, AND WE WILL GRIND THEIR DROOLING, BABY FACES INTO THE SAND!"

*yells of excitement from the troops*

Arthur smirked as he sat down on a log next to the fire. His mouth twitched upwards into a cruel, twisted grin. He chuckled quietly. The flames of the fireplace rose higher and higher in front of him, almost concealing his figure on the log, and making it almost seem as if he was coming out of the fire. The firelight danced and flickered across his face, illuminating it and giving his face a creepy, sinister vibe.

Arthur grabbed his sword from its sheath and started drawing out a map for his men in the sand. He drew two pieces of land, separated by a channel. A circle was drawn on the right side.

"Here I have positioned a small group of men. They are over on the other side of the channel as we speak, hiding in the woods. They have already been notified of the plan. Their leader will be telling them shortly to do a surprise attack on General Alfred's troops."

Arthur drew an x on the right side, near the circle, and connected the two with a short arrow.

"This first group will confuse Alfred's troops, and make them think that we have a much smaller force. While they are busy fighting, our troop will sail across the channel. When they see us, they will know that they are outnumbered and they will panic.

He drew another circle on the left side of the channel, and connected it to the x with a long arrow.

"Now men, we go hunt some Yankees." Arthur said, his face contorting into another smirk.

* * *

Arthur and his men had been riding on their boats for a while, and were starting to draw close to shore. By now, it was nightfall. Two dozen massive, wooden warships swarmed the coast, sailing so close together that from the shore, they appeared to make an impenetrable line. Shouts of panic and fear could be heard from the shore. The American men were visibly distressed, and scrambled around like mice trapped in a cage. Arthur landed his boat on shore, and the others gradually followed suit. In the shadow of Arthur's massive boat stood Alfred himself, holding a lantern. Arthur looked down on Alfred from the bow of the boat as Alfred looked up at Arthur. For what seemed like a full minute, the two men stood there with their lips parted, feeling a bit shocked. Emotions ran through Arthur's mind, emotions of longing and sadness. Alfred's blue eyes were so beautiful. They matched his blue general's uniform. Then suddenly there was a loud banging sound that snapped Arthur out of his trance. A bullet whizzed by Arthur's head, almost grazing his ear. Then there was a sputtering sound and a thump. Arthur turned around and saw that one of his men had been shot in the chest. Arthur's eyes narrowed. His fists clenched tightly and shook with anger. Soon Alfred's gaze matched his. The moment was over just as soon as it had begun.

"ATTACK MEN!" Arthur yelled.

Arthur's soldiers spilled out of the boats onto the land in a sea of red coats, and moved towards Alfred's troops. It was as if pools of blood were flowing out of the boats and over the ground, foretelling the doom of Alfred's troops. Then there was the first clang of two bayonets hitting together, and more gunshots. Arthur stood at the top of the boat still, overlooking his men as the slaughter began. Arthur looked out a little farther to see that Alfred had moved to a safe location, and was watching his troops fight on the sand from his fort on the edge of the tree line. Arthur felt relieved. Even though he was angry at Alfred and wanted to teach him a lesson, he didn't want him to die. Out on the front lines, the American soldiers struggled with holding back the English. Fairly quickly, the English were mowing through the Americans with their bayonets. Lines of crimson liquid trickled over the sand into a nearby creek in the woods. The water began to run red. The stream's red liquid ran down into to the ocean and started turning the foam pink. Meanwhile, the American troops closer to the forest were in trenches, and were shooting at the English soldiers from farther away. As more and more men in blue coats fell down onto the ground, the more the Americans began to panic. Arthur could see the fear in their eyes. It was in the eyes of the young soldiers especially. The fact that the battle was taking place at night did not help ease the worries of the Americans. Only the light of the full moon, and some lanterns here and there lit the scene. The Americans' fear was multiplied by the darkness, by the uncertainty. Yet Alfred did not seem to want to surrender. There had to be some way...

Arthur turned to his lieutenant and whispered in his ear. His lieutenant nodded, then spoke to the three other high-ranked soldiers who were still aboard the main warship. The three men disappeared and returned with a cannon. Arthur reached into his pocket and withdrew a flare. He placed the flare into the cannon. Then on his signal, the men launched the flare through the air. The remaining American soldiers looked up in confusion when they saw the sudden flash of light above them. However, they looked too late. The flare landed in the foliage of a tree. Then another flare was launched, and another. The forest area surrounding Alfred's fort was starting to burn. Arthur picked up his binoculars and focused on the fort.

"Retreat! Retreat!" Shouted Alfred from inside of the fort. He then quickly ran out, away from the flames. The American men quickly ran into the woods, happy to flee the scene, and avoiding the falling, flaming branches as much as possible. Just before entering the woods, Alfred looked back. Arthur saw Alfred through his binoculars. Alfred looked sad, and was staring directly at Alfred. Then he disappeared, the singed feather on his hat leaving behind a trail of smoke.


	5. The Tables Turn

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 5**

 _Hello again faithful readers! I bring you battle scene 2 of 3. This scene is inspired by actual historical events during the Battle of Saratoga. (Note - there is a bit of a time skip between chapters 4 and 5). The Battle of Saratoga is often considered to be the turning point in the American Revolutionary War. The tables turned and the Americans started winning. Hetalia and its characters are still not mine. Also, while writing this I was listening to "A Tribe Called Red" by Angel Haze._

* * *

It had been just over a year ago, in late summer that Arthur and his men had attacked Alfred's forces at Long Island and had won by a landslide. Now, it was the autumn of 1777, and during that time, Arthur had been a very busy man. He was a strategist, and always spent a lot of time preparing for his battles. In fact, he had been so busy and so distracted that his heavy drinking stopped, (much to the relief of his friends). Arthur's dedication was most likely the reason why England was winning the war. Today was the day of another battle, and Arthur had just notified his troops of the plan of attack. Arthur was in his personal tent, standing in front of a full-length mirror and suiting up for battle. Unfortunately for Arthur, he would be outnumbered today. Another English force was supposed to have joined with his last night, but they never showed. Arthur wondered what had happened to them. It seemed that at this point, his reinforcements weren't coming at all. Arthur wasn't used to being outnumbered, but he figured that his troops were more skilled than Alfred's, and that their skills would make up for it. Arthur finished dressing, and stood up to look at himself in the mirror. His intense, green eyes seemed to have a fire lit in them lately. A fire of determination.

"Bring me my riding crop, I am ready to go out." Arthur called to Richard, his right-hand man.

Richard appeared with the crop, and Arthur left for the stables to retrieve his horse, Marzipan. Marzipan was a pale gray mare which Arthur had owned for about a decade now. She was a swift, strong horse and Arthur refused to use any other horse for battles. Today, he would need her since this was a cavalry battle. Currently, she was eating hay.

"Hello girl, how are you today?" He asked. Marzipan's ear twitched at Arthur's voice, and then she raised her head out of the feed sack. She whinnied and grabbed a hold of the empty feed sack with her mouth. Marzipan then shoved it in Arthur's face, her neck leaning over her stall door.

Arthur chuckled. Marzipan always made him laugh with her antics.

"No Marzipan, you can't fool me today. I know the stable boy already fed you your breakfast."

Marzipan dropped the feed sack and hung her head in disappointment. Arthur opened the gate and quickly mounted her.

"Ok girl, you know what to do."

Then Arthur and Marzipan trotted off, out of the stable door and onto the battlefield.

* * *

Arthur sat on top of Marzipan, alongside his men. They were about to go over a hill, and after that they would likely be able to see the enemy approaching in the distance, on the other side of the large, open, grassy plain. Today, Arthur had a division of cavalry, and a division of infantrymen. In the back of the lines, with him and the other high-ranking officers there were several wooden carts carrying heavy cannons. Then suddenly Arthur was standing at the top, looking down at his troops scattered along the bottom of the hill, and at a sea of blue coats. There was blue as far as the eye could see. Arthur gave a hand signal, then nodded to his colonel. The drummers began drumming out a quick beat, signaling for the rest of the troops to prepare themselves and continue marching forward. The staccato beat of dozens of drums playing in unison was hypnotizing, and drew Arthur and his men into a new state of mind. The beat of the drums made them focus on their goal, and gave them a feeling of intensity. All across the battlefield, jaws clenched and eyes narrowed. The pounding of horses' hooves was like thunder rolling across the plains, and added to the intensity. The two fleets were almost upon each other by now, probably about 50 feet apart. Alfred's troops were beating out a slightly different beat on their drums, and when the two fleets came together, the differing beats created a cacophony of chaotic noise. Not long after, real chaos ensued. The first shots rang out. Arthur tried to find Alfred in the sea of blue coats, but was unable to. However, he heard his loud, obnoxious voice directing his troops. Alfred also had some troops on horseback today. Now the troops were about 30 feet apart. Men on both sides began to fall, into the dirt to be trampled on by the men and horses behind. Arthur noticed that his troops were holding up just as well as Alfred's were so far. This pleased him. Neither side was losing much more men than the other. The distance was 20 feet now, and Arthur smirked underneath his hat as he caught a glimpse of Alfred trotting along on his brown steed. He felt confident that he could beat Alfred today, even though Alfred had more men.

"I do believe we can win this!" Arthur yelled over the noise of the drums, the horses' hooves, and the gunshots.

"You may be right sir!" Yelled Richard.

"Sir, I mean no disrespect but you are clearly outnumbered!" Yelled the colonel, whose name was Benjamin. "In fact, now that I see just how many men they have, I think it might be wisest to not fight them at all!"

Arthur ignored this comment. It was time to focus. They were closing in on the enemy now. The men left in the front line drew out their bayonets and swords, (the close-combat weapons) and began clashing with Alfred's troops. To Arthur's dismay, Alfred's front line plowed over his. Arthur's eyes widened. He looked over at Benjamin, whose emotionless face seemed to say "I told you so". Arthur looked back. His troops were trying their hardest to keep the Americans back, but the complete obliteration of the first row had put them on edge, and made them a bit fearful. Alfred's troops seemed to have more of a drive than usual, which was something that Arthur couldn't explain. The American soldiers were making war cries, and Alfred was screaming out something that Arthur couldn't quite make out. Most likely, it was a form of encouragement or a motivational speech. Arthur's troops were holding out a bit better now, but Arthur had to admit, he was actually feeling a bit nervous and unconfident now, which never happened to him on the battlefield. Usually, people told him that he was actually overconfident.

Arthur made another hand signal and shouted out "CAVALRY!"

The beat of the drums changed, and the cavalry emerged from the back. The rest of Arthur's soldiers moved aside to let the horses and their riders past. Alfred seemed to have the same idea, which didn't give Arthur an advantage. Now both troops had cavalry out in front. Unfortunately for Arthur and his troops, Alfred's cavalry had a devastating effect. Their horses knocked over all of the English soldiers standing in their way. It seemed that the goal of their cavalry was to disperse and separate Arthur's men. The men in red fell over like dominoes. Many were them were trampled by the horses. Arthur's heart leapt up in his throat, seeing how close the American cavalry were to him now. He decided to pick up his own gun and start trying to shoot some of the riders down himself. Then Arthur heard a whizzing sound. He whipped around to his left just in time to see Benjamin get pierced in the neck with a bullet. He made a choking sound as it buried itself deep in the center of his throat and broke multiple major arteries. Only a few seconds later he fell off of his horse, and stopped moving. Arthur was in absolute shock. He stopped shooting. His face went as white as death. His eyes were like two round globes, fixated on his colonel's corpse, which was being left behind. _Oh my god. He was right and he died for my mistake. This was all a mistake._ Arthur thought. While Arthur and his men were panicking, Alfred's troops prepared the weapon that would end the battle. In his shock, Arthur had failed to notice that some of the men on horses were carrying large wooden barrels with fuses on the ends of them. These barrels were filled with highly explosive gunpowder. Alfred's men dropped the barrels simultaneously, and then quickly took off, away from the scene. Arthur turned his head around, away from the body of his fallen comrade. The American cavalry had escaped just in time for the gunpowder bombs to start to detonate. Loud explosions sounded all over the battlefield, as puffs of smoke and flames flew up into the sky. One by one they exploded, and to Arthur's horror, there were bodies and body parts flying up into the air, then falling back down. Pieces of earth and grass were also flying everywhere. He had no other choice at this point. He had to do it.

"RETREAT MEN!" Arthur waved a large white flag over his head as the explosions continued.

The remaining redcoats fled the scene quickly. As they turned around Arthur saw that the whites of their eyes were wide. Many were limping along or coughing from all of the smoke. The injured were carried back on carts. As they retreated, Arthur passed by the body of his dear colonel Benjamin, lying in a pool of blood. A tear escaped Arthur's eye as he passed by.

"Come on Marzipan" Arthur said quietly to his horse as the Americans cheered. "Let's get you washed up."

* * *

 _ALFRED IS A BLOODY BASTARD_! Thought Arthur as he growled. He was currently in his tent, at his dining table, clutching a bottle of gin and scowling. He took a swig, then slammed the bottle down so hard on the table that it smashed into bits everywhere.

"AAAAHH!" He screamed, seeing a piece of glass in his hand. "BLOODY HELL, OWWW!"

"Oh dear! Sir let me assist you!" exclaimed Richard.

"GET OFF MY CASE GIT, I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" Arthur yelled.

Richard just stood there, feeling a bit shocked for a moment, then slowly left.

Standing outside of the tent was a young boy who served as Arthur's messenger. "Bad time?" He asked.

"Yes, indeed." Replied Richard.


	6. The Last Stand

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 6**

 _Hello again everyone! Happy (almost) Friday! I hope everyone is just excited about the weekend as I am! As you all know, I have been a bit busy lately with my new job. However, expect to have more new chapters out this weekend! :) This chapter is based on the last battle of the Revolutionary War, the Battle of Yorktown. Therefore, some plot aspects are not original. Once again, there is a time skip. Hetalia and its characters are still not mine._

* * *

It was the summer of 1781. Arthur and his men had been fighting against America's forces for five years straight by now. The associated stress showed on Arthur's face and in his appearance. His blonde hair seemed to perpetually be a disheveled mess. His green eyes were tired and shadowed from sleepless nights. His thick, bushy brows were constantly knit together in concern. Arthur and his men were currently positioned in Yorktown, where they had a sturdy fortification by the river. Yorktown used to be the center of Arthur's power in America, although at this point, it was all that England had left. They had a small town of sorts set up, surrounded by stone walls. Arthur lived at the very center, in a small manor. Surrounding him were the cottages in which the soldiers resided. It was morning, and Arthur sighed as he sipped a hot cup of tea by the window. The steam from the mug rose up, into his face as he stared intently out the window into his garden. He stood in front of the window, pondering his situation. England was already losing the war, and now France had apparently allied with America. This situation was Arthur's worst nightmare. Arthur thought to himself _I swear, that frog has allied against me only to spite me, and not for his own personal gain._

"General Arthur, I come bearing terrible news!"

Arthur turned around to face his young message-bearer, who looked out of breath and distraught. Arthur made a loud sigh, and ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair.

"What now?"

"Well sir, it would appear that umm...the night watchmen...well you see...they kind of..."

"Spit it out boy."

"S-sorry general Arthur! Umm...well they dozed off last night after getting into the spirits and now we seem to be surrounded by the enemy."

"WHAT?! THOSE IMBECILES! I'M GOING TO SMACK THEM SO HARD THAT THEY FLY OFF INTO INDIA!"

* * *

 _Meanwhile on the edge of the stone wall protecting the town..._

 _*_ _The watchmen look nervously at each-other as there is the d_ _istant sound of Arthur shouting obscenities*_

* * *

An hour later, Arthur was surrounded by his men, and having a meeting with them. The soldiers had hurriedly gotten suited up while Arthur came up with a plan of action. The legion stood nearby the gates of the stone wall, in preparation to leave for battle.

"As you all know, France has recently allied with America. America is using this to their advantage. While the French have positioned boats in the river, the Americans are blocking us in on the other side. We cannot escape. We must either fight or surrender, and it's not in the blood of the English to surrender, is it? No, we give it our all, every day, every one of us. Whether we are old or young, rich or poor, experienced or freshly-trained, general or soldier, we all have something in common. We will refuse to back down to ANYONE!"

*Cheers from the soldiers*

"WHO WILL FIGHT WITH ME TODAY?!"

*Yells and screams of "I!"*

"Legion one and two, I want you to go outside of the wall and block the gate! Legion three, four, five, and six, follow me up the stairs which lead onto the top of the wall. We will fight off the enemy from above!"

With that, the group disbanded. Arthur led his group up an imposing set of stone steps. As Arthur got further up the steps, his heartbeat echoed in his ears, beating fast and hard. Also, the dull roar of the enemy shouting enthusiastically became louder and louder. Finally, Arthur's boot hit the top step, and he rose up onto the top of the wall. His eyes widened, as he took in the sight twenty-five feet below, on the ground. All around him on land, there were men, men as far as the eye could see, organized into several different legions. This was much, much more than his force could handle. Looking more closely, he noticed that there were actually some French legions fighting alongside the Americans on land, which he had not anticipated. He could identify them due to their traditional white uniforms. Arthur spun around, and saw ten French warships, filled with men.

What should I do? He wondered, remembering the last time that they were outnumbered. He had a flashback to the day after the battle, when he went with a few of his men to retrieve bodies. He remembered lifting up the body of Benjamin, and feeling his ice cold hand against him as he lifted the corpse up into a wooden wagon. Arthur shuddered. He didn't want to bury any more friends. Arthur turned to Richard.

"I am sorry to say this, but I think that maybe we should surrender now."

Richard's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "B-but sir, what about what you said earlier about not giving up?"

"I know what I said."

"Sir, what you said is true, the English never give up. We are just as stubborn as mules. We fight with honor until the very end. I know that you've been through a lot lately, and I know that the last time we were outnumbered things went badly. I would understand if you made us surrender. I would surrender with you because I will follow you anywhere. But your speech just moved me and all of the other men so much. It made us realize how true what you said was. The English don't give up. Look around you. Look at these men. They are ready for battle. They want to fight, they want to honor their country. They are happy doing it."

Arthur looked around him, at a crowd of men smiling at him. The smiles were so unexpected, especially considering that these men were likely about to die. Richard was right, his speech really had influenced the men. Arthur swallowed, and looked down. Finally, he spoke.

"Ok, we fight."

Arthur stood in his red and black general's uniform on top of the wall, and signaled to the men to begin firing. His hand shook nervously as he did so. Then, there was the bang of a musket, and just like that, the battle began. The American and French forces responded by beginning to shoot back. Bullets began flying through the air. Arthur noted that due to the four foot wall on the top of the massive, stone barrier, the Americans and French would have a difficult time killing the English men behind it. Arthur's men were crouching down, and shooting from behind the wall. Complete accuracy was not needed to thin out the force of the enemy, since they were releasing a spray of shots into a tightly-packed sea of enemy soldiers. Meanwhile, on the side facing the river, the French forces seemed to be mostly just blocking the way, so that there was no escape possible. Finally, English men started to fall. The short wall was not a perfect shield. Meanwhile, the Americans and French were falling quite quickly, but there were so many of them that it didn't matter. On the ground, Arthur saw that it was a different story entirely for his men. While the men on the wall fell slowly and were efficient at killing, the men on the ground were being slaughtered. Arthur winced as he saw how many men were laying on the ground already. There were bodies laying on top of bodies. It had been a bad idea to position anyone down there. Arthur called over his messenger boy.

"Quickly lad! Go down the stairs and tell the three men positioned at the inside of the wall to unlock the gates!"

The boy nodded and dashed off. Arthur removed a flare from his pocket, and shot it out. The red light shot up, and then over the heads of the English soldiers on the ground. This signal was to call the remaining soldiers on the ground back in through the gates. Within minutes, everyone who was still alive was back inside. Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief. Then suddenly, Arthur was disturbed by a very loud banging sound behind him. He jumped, then whipped around to see a cannonball hurtling towards the side of the wall facing the river. With a loud cracking sound, it hit its target. Then another cannonball was fired. Arthur acted quickly.

"Squadron six! I need cannons over here! We need to take down these ships fast before they take us down!"

However, he had not acted quickly enough. More and more cannonballs were hitting the wall, and shaking the whole structure. A couple of large holes were already forming. Then Arthur heard a bang on the other side, on the side where the mixed American and French forces were positioned. Now cannonballs were being shot at that side of the wall as well.

"Legion five! Cannons on this side please!"

The men rushed around, loading the cannons as quickly as possible, but their efforts were in vain. There were now gaping holes on both sides of the structure. American and French soldiers began pouring in on one side, while the holes on the other side was quickly being approached by a French ship. The walls were breached, and now the English soldiers were no longer safe inside. The English soldiers prepared their muskets as they heard the sound of hundreds of heavy footsteps running up the stone staircase. Then chaos ensued. French and American soldiers spilled onto the top of the wall, and cut down English soldiers with their bayonets like they were reaping wheat in a field. Arthur watched in horror as an English soldier was stabbed brutally in the chest and thrown over the wall while he was still just barely alive, and screaming. Then suddenly, someone grabbed Arthur from behind and pressed a knife to his throat.

"A-hh! W-we surrender!" Arthur cried out. The man dropped his blade. Arthur ran and grabbed the white flag. He waved it over his head, and slowly the fighting stopped. For a second, there was silence. Then, a figure broke through the crowd. It was the messenger boy again. He ran quickly towards Arthur, his chubby, freckled cheeks flushed and his breath heavy.

"What is it lad? The battle is over."

"It's Alfred sir, he's been injured!"


	7. Forgive Me

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 7**

 _Hello everyone! This chapter is SO exciting for me to finally be able to write! I have been looking forwards to it! Hope you all enjoy it! Also, I really just want to thank everyone who is reading this right now. Whether you are a new reader or whether you started reading Twilight's Last Gleaming as soon as it came out, thank you! Your favorites, your follows, and your comments make my day! :)_ _Also, they make me want to keep writing._

* * *

Arthur froze in place as the words "It's Alfred sir, he's been injured!" echoed in his head. His mouth was gaping in shock, but he couldn't say a word. His mind raced. _This has gone much too far,_ he thought. Arthur realized that hatred could be a dangerous thing. Of course originally he felt sad about Alfred's independence, but the sadness had turned into anger, and then hatred. _And in my hatred, just look at what I've done_ , he thought. _Look what we've both done, we've led so many men to their deaths, and now Alfred has been injured because of the war. This needs to end. I can't keep letting my emotions take control like this._ Arthur looked back at the boy after a couple of minutes.

"What is your name boy?"

"Quincy."

"Thank you for telling me Quincy."

"Of course general Arthur sir.", said the boy. "I just thought you might want to know since it gives us an advantage."

 _It isn't a good thing actually_ , Arthur thought. His men were unaware that he actually had a bit of a soft spot for the other man. He would never let them know though. It wasn't like Arthur to expose his feelings to others.

"General, shall we head back now?", asked Richard, looking rather dirty and with his shirt all torn up. His brown, curly hair stuck to his tanned skin with sweat. Arthur looked around, and saw that the Americans and French were already re-grouping and gathering up their dead and wounded. _Alfred will be one of them now_ , Alfred thought, his heart feeling heavy.

"Yes, we shall head back now."

* * *

One hour later, Arthur was dashing through the woods with Marzipan on his own top-secret mission. Arthur was going to visit Alfred at the American army camp. He had arrived back to his room, gotten cleaned up and then gotten dressed. Arthur realized that he needed a disguise since people at the camp were bound to recognize him. He had put on his black cloak, with the hood up, as well as an eye patch, just in case someone saw his face underneath of the hood. Then once it was dark, he snuck off into the stables, and rode silently off into the night on Marzipan. If he was going to visit the enemy, he needed to be quiet about it. Arthur needed to stop this war, so he wanted to visit Alfred and come to an agreement with him. Then when the negotiations were over, he would leave. Hopefully it would go well, but Arthur was worried that Alfred might be so angry or so badly injured that he wouldn't want to talk. Arthur looked all around into the woods as he held onto the reins with one hand and held onto a lantern with the other. The woods were dead silent tonight, and very misty. The mist surrounded the pine trees, and sometimes Arthur had trouble seeing them. The trees only appeared out of the mist at the very last minute. At least Arthur had his lantern, because the lantern helped slightly with visibility. Arthur rode through the woods for hours, until the mist started to clear, and finally a clearing emerged in the distance. The clearing was the American army camp. Arthur was relieved to see no fires burning. Most likely everyone was asleep by now. However, there were clouds of smoke billowing up into the sky, slowly concealing the stars and the moon. It would seem that the American troops had extinguished their fires fairly recently. As he trotted out into the clearing on Marzipan, the cluster of brown fabric tents got closer and closer. Arthur realized, while looking at the field full of hundreds of tents, that he had no idea where Alfred was. Arthur slowly and carefully trotted through rows and rows of tents. _What am I even doing?_ He wondered. _I could probably get lost in here._ Finally, after what seemed like an hour of wandering through hundreds of identical tents, he saw a tent that was larger than all of the others, with an American flag flying in front of it on a pole. Arthur assumed that that was Alfred's tent since Alfred was the general after all. As quietly as possible, Arthur slid out of the saddle, while still holding the lantern. He winced as his feet hit the ground with a thump and the lantern clattered. _Now where do I tie up Marzipan so that it won't look suspicious?_ He wondered. He looked around for a while, then noticed a group of horses belonging to the Americans tied up, amongst a small grove of trees. Arthur tied a rope around Marzipan's neck and led her to the grove. Once Marzipan was tied up, he walked back to the tent. He paused for a moment before gingerly lifting the fabric door flap. He held the lantern up to peer inside. There, laying sprawled out on bearskins, fast asleep, was Alfred. His face was facing Arthur. Arthur's breath hitched in his throat. Alfred looked so peaceful, so serene. His face was like that of an angel, and his dark blonde hair fell messily, but perfectly, on his forehead. Arthur mentally slapped himself. You _idiot, you're here to negotiate,_ he reminded himself. _Or am I?_ Arthur stuck his head into the tent, then slowly started walking forward. He tiptoed over to Alfred's sleeping form, and laid the lantern and his eye patch down on the bedside table, which was covered in medicine bottles and bandages. He pushed his hood off of his head. Arthur looked over Alfred, who was lying in nothing but his bloomers, most likely because it was a hot, summer night. His skin was tan from the sun, and smooth. Arthur blushed when he noticed that Alfred had developed more defined muscles sometime during the war, most likely during training, and he wondered if coming here was a bad idea. Then his gaze went to Arthur's left leg. The upper half, from the groin to the knee was wrapped in bandages. Arthur's blush slowly faded, and was replaced by a concerned frown. Suddenly, Alfred mumbled. Arthur's head snapped around to see that Alfred's eyes were fluttering open. One eye opened slowly, then the other. They fixated on Arthur's eyes. Then suddenly Alfred shot up out of bed, his mouth hanging open in shock as he sat up and stared at Arthur.

"Arthur?!" What the heck?!"

"Sshhh oh god please be quiet", Arthur whispered as he held his head in his hands nervously. Alfred was not good at being quiet.

"Why the heck are you here?", Alfred whispered.

"I wanted to negotiate with you. I think that this war needs to end. I am willing to make some compromises."

Alfred looked suspiciously at Arthur, his blue eyes narrowing in thought.

"I'm unarmed."

"That's not what I'm worried about, but ok that's good to know."

"What are you worried about?"

Alfred was silent. He looked down at the furry bearskin blankets as he sat there in his bloomers.

"Is this a bad time to talk Alfred?"

Alfred looked back up at Arthur briefly before looking back down and sighing.

"I think it's just a bad idea for us to talk in general."

"Why because someone might wake up and shoot me?", Arthur asked with a smirk. "Listen, I know you Americans keep your muskets in bed with you, but I can take care of myself, I'm a general."

"You really don't get it."

Arthur looked sadly at Alfred, not knowing what to say at first. "I want to understand."

"There's a reason why I've been avoiding you all these years. You're too controlling, and our friendship became toxic. But...when I see you I...well it makes me want to not let go. We have so many good memories, and I always think that maybe it could be like that again. But you just got more and more controlling. So I distanced myself." Alfred paused for a moment, still looking down at his blanket, then added "I want to feel respected and I really don't. I feel like you just think I'm some sort of property that you can control, that you own. And that's not a healthy friendship. Neither person should have more power than the other. You had so much power. You controlled our taxes even. Eventually...I fought back because I got really angry."

Arthur looked at Alfred with his green eyes wide. Alfred looked up finally, to meet Arthur's eyes. To Arthur's surprise, they were filled with tears, threatening to spill out at any minute. _So all of this time...Alfred was just as hurt as I was. He really does care about me._ Arthur found himself welling up with tears too, and he tried to hold back by squeezing his eyes shut but before he knew it he felt a tear rolling down his cheek. _I've hurt him just as much as he's hurt me,_ Arthur realized.

"A-are you crying?" Asked Alfred in a shaky voice.

"N-no! No of course not git!"

"You can't fool me." Alfred was quiet then asked, "Can I hug you?"

Arthur was taken aback. His brows furrowed in confusion.

"Pardon me, what did you say?"

"I asked if I could hug you. Although as you can see, I can't really stand up right now so you'll have to sit next to me on the bed."

Arthur stared at Alfred's blue eyes and blushed. Alfred gave a weak smile as a tear rolled down his face. It was just like Alfred to try to be cheery, even when things were rough.

Arthur nodded, and sat next to Alfred on the bed. Alfred quickly wrapped his arms around Arthur without any warning, making Alfred's eyes get wide again. Arthur slowly brought his arms up to hug Alfred, who was crying hard. Arthur felt Alfred's tears on his shoulder as he hugged the taller man. _I never expected this to get emotional_ , he thought. _I expected the atmosphere to be tense or awkward._

Arthur spoke up. "I wasn't aware of how you felt. I was...clueless. I'm sorry Alfred. You know, I see now after your recent battles with me that you are just as strong of a country as I am, if not stronger. You don't need me to badger you and try to "help" you."

Alfred squeezed Arthur tightly around his middle, and said "thank you" around sniffles.

"Alfred look at me."

Alfred raised his head up and removed his arms from around Arthur. His eyes were pink and tear-stained as they looked down at Arthur's sad green eyes, which were also a bit pink.

"I want you to feel respected."

Alfred smiled and hugged Arthur again.

"Thank you so much Arthur."

"Let's forget all about this, ok?" Said Arthur.

"What? You mean the fact that I'm hugging you and you're actually hugging me back?"

Arthur chuckled and swatted Alfred's head lightly. "No you silly git. Let's bury the hatchet and end the war by signing a treaty. But not until your leg is better. What happened to it by the way?"

Alfred leaned back again and stopped hugging Arthur. "Ok, that sounds like a good idea. And yeah, I got hit by a bullet in the leg. It was removed though so I bet I'll be better in no time!"

Arthur smiled at Alfred's chipper attitude.

"You know, I think I should leave before I get discovered."

Alfred's face fell but he responded by saying "ok, have a safe trip."

"Thanks, I will."


	8. I'm Here

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 8**

 _So things have been pretty crazy lately. I drove my dad to the hospital yesterday so that he could have a procedure done on his leg, and I picked him up later in the day. He's doing well so far so I'm not worried at the moment, and you shouldn't worry either. However, I definitely know what it's like when someone you love has health issues, as many of us do. My dad has an old leg injury, which gives him a lot of pain. Sometimes it's hard seeing him hurting so much. So during this chapter and the next I am pouring out my heart and soul. I'm sorry for getting a bit deep there and talking about my personal life, but I figure some of you will relate to my story and to this chapter and the next, you know? Lots of people have health issues after all, this isn't some unique thing. These feelings are ones that almost everyone will experience at one point or another, it's just a matter of when._

* * *

It was approximately one week prior to Arthur's visit to the American camp. It was morning, and the sunlight was streaming in through Arthur's bedroom window in golden beams, casting shapes on the oak floor. Arthur was curled up in a ball under his blankets, with only his nightcap sticking out. Arthur grumbled sleepily as the light woke him. Slowly he opened his eyes. Yawning, he rolled over, and was about to go back to sleep, until he saw something that caught his eye. Arthur was surprised to see a wax sealed envelope on his desk. _That's a bit strange,_ he thought. _Perhaps Quincy snuck in while I was asleep and dropped it off._ Arthur rose out of bed and stretched, before making his way over to the desk. His eyes widened when he saw who the letter was from. Surprisingly, the letter was from Alfred's colonel. Arthur was even more confused now. He snatched it up and quickly peeled off the red wax.

 _Dear general Arthur,_

 _Alfred is not well. His leg is suffering from a malady caused by the lead bullet. We have removed some more fragments from the bullet, which had previously gone unnoticed. We hope that soon he will be feeling back to normal. However, for now he suffers pains of the stomach and head, and seems to be confused. Many soldiers who suffer the lead poisoning have maladies of the head, just as Alfred has now._

 _I never thought I would be writing you, considering that our nations aren't on good terms, but for some reason beyond explanation, Alfred seems to wish for you to be present. Perhaps the lead is talking. You may visit if you wish, but it will be a supervised visit. Maybe you can get him to stop whining. Lately he has been asking over and over again during his fits where you are. Needless to say, no one around is sleeping well lately, as he has his fits at all hours of night and day. He also has mentioned something about a treaty. If you and Alfred plan to sign a treaty, we can also discuss that during the visit._

 _Respectfully,_

 _Colonel Hughes_

Arthur's brows knit together in concern as he contemplated what the letter said. He set the letter back down, walked back over to the bed, and put his head in his hands. He sighed, and breathed deeply in and out a few times, feeling a bit stressed out. Arthur felt that he was partially responsible since it was the war which had caused Alfred's injury. If the war had never even happened, surely Alfred would be healthy right now. _I have to make up for this, by taking care of him,_ he thought to himself, standing up suddenly and going to his wardrobe to start packing. _I'm coming for you Alfred, don't worry._

* * *

Arthur arrived at the American camp by mid-day, at around 2 o'clock. The camp looked much different during the day. The place was swarming with soldiers. Arthur observed dirty, beaten-down looking men hanging around cooking fires, cleaning muskets, washing clothes, and eating. All of them stared at him as he approached the camp. Some men even opened the flaps of their tents and poked their heads out to see what the fuss was all about. Then Arthur recognized a tall, lanky man with a full beard, stern expression, and aged white hair to be Alfred's colonel. The man was walking towards him as Arthur sat atop of Marzipan. Arthur dismounted, and walked towards Colonel Hughes.

"Hello general Arthur", the man said coldly, keeping a stoic face.

"Hello colonel Hughes, it's a pleasure meeting you", Arthur replied, in a polite, but not entirely sincere matter.

"Let's get right to the point, are you going to sign a treaty with Alfred?"

"Yes sir, we will as soon as Alfred is well."

"And what inspired you to end the war pray tell?

"Just a change of what I deemed important. It's a bit of a long story, but I guess you could say that we're both tired of fighting and wish to come to peace."

Colonel Hughes nodded.

"Do you have any weapons on you?"

"No sir, I do not". Arthur said. "You may search me if you wish."

"Already ahead of you on that one", replied the tall, bearded man. His eyes, surrounded by wrinkles, watched Arthur intensely and observed him as his men patted Arthur down and searched his saddlebag. Once they were confident that Arthur was unarmed, Colonel Hughes spoke yet again.

"Follow me, we will tie up your horse, then I will lead you to Alfred."

Arthur followed the man, and walked through the sea of men, who were very curious as to what was going on. Arthur felt hundreds of eyes fixated on him, watching his every move as he tied up Marzipan. Finally, the colonel led Arthur to Alfred's tent.

"I apologize in advance sir. He's not very agreeable at the moment."

Arthur lifted the flap slowly as he prepared himself mentally for the worst. Colonel Hughes followed him inside, and stood nearby. There, sitting on the bearskins in his pale blue nightgown was Alfred. He was not sleeping as he was last time. Instead, he was quietly reading a book. Arthur had been expecting to see something much worse. Alfred looked up and as soon as he met Arthur's eyes he dropped the book and got a huge, goofy grin on his face.

"ARTIE!" exclaimed Alfred, as he started to get out of bed. His doctor, who was standing near his bed immediately grabbed him and made him sit back down. "I am so glad you came!"

The doctor and the colonel exchanged looks of confusion, seeing how happy Alfred was.

Arthur smiled sweetly and walked over to Alfred's bed, all the while maintaining eye contact. He sat next to Alfred on the bed, just like he had a week ago. Alfred quickly hugged him and Arthur wheezed as Alfred embraced him a little too enthusiastically.

"Umm...Alfred...ughhh can you...be a little more...gentle...ughhh."

Alfred loosened him grip.

"I'm sorry Arthur, I'm just so excited! Hey guys, can you leave us alone for a minute or so?"

The doctor and the colonel shared another look, and hesitantly, colonel Hughes replied.

"As you wish sir. We will be right outside the tent should you need us."

The two left, and Alfred smiled. Arthur sat back and withdrew from the embrace.

"Artie, I'm so glad you're here. I want to talk about some things. I was getting really tired of fighting, and when you said that you wanted to sign a treaty I was relieved. I never expected you of all people to give up on something like that."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do."

Alfred's blue eyes widened, and sparkled with curiosity. _Damn, we're so close. I want to...I want to kiss him_ , Arthur thought. _His lips look so soft..._

"Look, Alfred, I don't talk much about my feelings so you don't know what I went through. You don't know how our fighting, how your Declaration of Independence, and how the war affected me. I was...a mess to be honest."

"This whole time?"

Arthur nodded and looked sadly at Alfred.

"First I was depressed, then it turned into anger and I just ruined EVERYTHING. I was so selfish, I ended lives for crying out loud. All because I was too proud to give up and suck up my pride. I'm such a jerk. Alfred...I lost sight of what was important..."

Arthur trailed off as he struggled to form the rest of the words. His eyes closed shut tightly, as a burning sensation formed inside of him from trying not to cry. However, Alfred understood perfectly. Y _ou are what's most important,_ is what Arthur had wanted to say.

"I behaved the same way didn't I? So that means we're equal."

"No! I hurt you too! Look at your leg..."

"It's healing."

"The men say you are doing poorly."

Alfred shrugged and replied, "I have good and bad days. And I'm not actually going mad like they seem to think. The poisoning isn't that bad. They just think I've gone crazy since I want you here."

"Well I am NEVER, EVER going to hurt you again", Arthur said, looking up into Alfred's eyes with sincerity and love for the other man. Alfred's cheeks flushed pink, and his mouth parted slightly as he looked down at Arthur, who was sitting next to him on the bearskins in his everyday green uniform. Alfred smiled. Then unexpectedly, he doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach and falling down onto the bed face first. He moaned loudly as his face contorted in pain.

Arthur froze in shock, not knowing what to do at first. He snapped out of it soon though, and ran out of the tent.

"Help! It's Alfred! I think he's having one of those fits!"


	9. The Sickness

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 9**

 _This chapter includes actual revolutionary-war era medical treatments. Hint: they were not very good. Fun fact: menstruation was actually considered a "malady"._ _In case anyone has forgotten, I do not own Hetalia or the characters. On with the story now._

* * *

Colonel Hughes and the doctor rushed into the tent, and Arthur quickly followed. Alfred was now rolling around on the bed, his forehead wet with perspiration.

"Arthur help me hold him down!" Yelled the colonel, as the doctor ran around the tent, frantically preparing something. He was a short, stout man and ran around as fast as his stubby legs could.

Arthur quickly held down Alfred's legs so that he would stop kicking, as the colonel pinned down his chest onto the cot. Alfred moaned again and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"He's having stomach pains", explained the doctor as he brought a tin mug of water to Alfred's lips. Alfred drank some of it, then went back to moaning.

"Arthur I think I've got him, can you go fetch some ginger root for his stomach? It's in the small food supply tent next door."

Arthur nodded and quickly ran off. He found the small, brown, food storage tent just to the left, It was about half the size of Alfred's roomy one. His heart pounded in his chest because he knew that the faster he found the ginger the better. There were so many barrels, sacks and crates to look through and Arthur didn't know where to start. _Apples, nope. In this sack maybe? Nope that's potatoes. Over here? Wine. In these crates? No that's just mead. Hanging in with the herbs perhaps? Nope._ Then finally he saw a small burlap sack on the ground, filled with ginger. He quickly grabbed it up and bolted out of the tiny tent. His heart was still racing. Sure, it was a stomach ache and not the pox or yellow fever, but it had to be the most intense stomach ache he had ever seen, even among his own men, some of whom had had lead poisoning before. Headaches and stomach aches caused by lead poisoning were known to sometimes be extreme, but this level of pain was something Arthur had not yet witnessed. Just as Arthur was about to enter the large, double-height tent, the doctor stuck his head out.

"He has a headache too, could you please fetch some apples and barley for it?"

Arthur felt overwhelmed, but quickly thrust the ginger into the doctor's arms before heading back into the food tent. He had at least seen where the apples and barley were before, so he was able to find them quickly. Arthur burst through Alfred's tent carrying an apple and a sack of barley seeds. The doctor was trying to quickly shred the ginger with a pocket knife as colonel Hughes continued to hold Alfred down. The doctor quickly beckoned Arthur over to him. Arthur dropped the barley and the apple down onto the table that the doctor was working at.

"Here try to feed him these peelings."

Arthur held his hand out as the doctor dumped the ginger into his hands. He then rushed over to Alfred's side. Alfred was struggling against the colonel, trying to escape, as his eyes were closed shut in pain. The pain was so intense by now that Alfred was actually panting. Arthur cupped one side of Alfred's head, in a caring sort of way as he lowered a piece of ginger into Alfred's mouth. Alfred's blue eyes suddenly opened to meet Arthur's green ones, and for a moment he stopped struggling. He took the ginger, and chewed it up quickly before making a face of disgust. Arthur removed his hand, and offered him another but Alfred tried to move his head away.

"Alfred please, it will help you."

Alfred moaned in agony, as an intense pain shot through his stomach. Without much hesitation, Alfred turned his head back towards Arthur. His blue eyes looked up desperately at Arthur, and Arthur quickly fed him two more pieces of ginger.

"Arthur, try touching his head again", said the doctor. "It seemed to have some sort of calming effect on him."

Arthur sat down on the bearskins next to Alfred as the colonel continued to hold Alfred down. He gingerly caressed Alfred's jaw line, before placing his hand lightly against the side of Alfred's face. Alfred's whole body froze in place as Arthur's hand started to touch his face. His blue eyes darted over towards Arthur's worried face. Then Arthur heard Alfred breathe out slowly. His breath slowly started to become more even as he held his gaze on Arthur. Arthur grabbed hold of one of Alfred's hands with his free hand, and let Alfred squeeze it as the pain shot through his head and his stomach. Alfred bit his lip as he did so. Arthur hated seeing Alfred in so much pain. It made him feel anxious and worried. Worst of all though, was the feeling that arose in Arthur's chest every time he heard Alfred moan and every time that his body jerked. The heart, it seemed, just like any other muscle, could get overworked and sore. _However, it seems_ _that the doctor was right. I am somehow helping him cope,_ thought Arthur to himself. Colonel Hughes stopped holding Alfred down, seeing that he had stopped moving around so violently.

"I have prepared some barley water for his headache. And he should eat this apple too. They should work within half an hour", said the doctor. "Let's get him to sit up. It will make it easier for him to drink and eat."

Arthur gently put one arm under Alfred's legs and one arm under Alfred's back. Alfred clutched tightly onto Arthur's shoulders, just like how he had clutched Arthur's hand. Alfred was heavier than Arthur, so Arthur was not able to pick Alfred up more than an inch off of the bed, but it was enough to get him re-positioned. Arthur lowered Alfred down into place, then sat down next to him on the bed. Alfred moaned again, and clutched his stomach. Arthur felt the pang in his chest return as Alfred's face contorted in agony. Arthur picked up Alfred's tan, smooth hand once again and held it in his, giving it a light squeeze. Alfred picked up his head to look at him, and Arthur saw that Alfred was now sweating so much that his hair was now sticking to his forehead. The doctor walked over and brought the tin mug of barley water to Alfred's lips. Alfred gulped it down, and nodded to the doctor in thanks as he bit his lower lip. Then the doctor handed Alfred the apple. Alfred bit into it quickly, trying to rid himself of the headache as soon as possible. After eating the apple, Alfred finally spoke up.

"My stomach feels better, I think the ginger worked. I mean it still hurts a little, but it's not bad. I'm still waiting on the headache to go away though..." Alfred trailed off as he winced and his eyebrows knit together. "I think I just need to give it a little more time. Thanks so much guys, all three of you, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you." Alfred then yawned. "I feel tired all of a sudden. I think I will nap soon."

"Sir, it's about seven o'clock now. Perhaps you should eat supper first. At least, after you feel better. Then you can go to bed early", reasoned colonel Hughes.

Alfred thought for a moment before responding " What's for supper?"

The colonel opened the rear flap of the tent, and looked out. Just behind the tent, about twenty feet away, the scrawny, red-haired cook was preparing a huge pot of something over a fire.

"Looks like beef stew."

Alfred smiled. "Ok then."

"Alright I'll set a bowl aside for you once it's done so it can cool."

With that, the colonel exited the tent. Arthur noticed that the colonel had not offered to get him a bowl of stew. _I suppose it's quite understandable that he doesn't trust me or like me yet_ , thought Arthur.

"I think I'm going to go check on the men in the main hospital tent," said the doctor. "I'm quite pleased to see how much better you are feeling Alfred. Perhaps we ought to actually keep this fellow around!" he joked, before making his exit and waddling out.

As soon as the man left, Alfred turned to Arthur, his blue eyes sparkling and said "Thank you so much Arthur, you're the best. You always make me feel better."

Arthur blinked a few times, staring open-mouthed at Alfred. Eventually he was able to stutter something out.

"I...I am glad I was able to help."

Alfred smiled his big, goofy grin again, then laid his head on Arthur's shoulder. Their legs touched as they sat next to each other on the bed, their backs up against the headboard. Arthur felt a warm feeling build inside of him. He turned his head sideways slightly, towards Alfred and looked down at his soft, dark blonde hair. _This is a bit strange_ , he thought to himself as they sat there in silence. _This doesn't seem like something that two male friends would do, but I'm not complaining. His hair feels so soft, and he's so warm._ Arthur decided to stop thinking so much and just enjoy it, whatever it was. So the two of them sat there on the bed, saying absolutely nothing and just relaxing until twenty minutes later, when the dinner bell rang.

* * *

Luckily, the cook offered Arthur a bowl of stew, which he wolfed down greedily since he had not eaten since breakfast. After dinner, the colonel took Arthur aside and showed him where he would be staying. Arthur followed colonel Hughes past Alfred's tent, and across the wide dirt path in front of it. In front of Arthur were two rows of identical tents, most of which were home to American soldiers. However, there was one which appeared to have a lot of patched up holes in the roof. Arthur assumed that this was his, and unfortunately he was correct. It seemed that Arthur would have to work to earn the colonel's respect.

"I think I might turn in early tonight", Arthur told the colonel.

"Suit yourself", he replied curtly, before handing Arthur a lantern and leaving abruptly.

Arthur turned around, and noticed that his tent had a few small puddles of rainwater inside of it. _Wonderful_ , he thought. _That bloody jerk. I'm going to have some choice words to say to Alfred tomorrow morning about this. After all, Alfred is this man's boss so why not? Too bad I can't tell him now. He's already asleep and I don't want to wake him, especially since he's not well. I'll just have to make due for now._ Arthur pulled his sleeping mat out of his bag, and laid it down on the most dry side of the tent. Then he pulled out his wool blanket and settled down into bed.

* * *

Arthur was woken up suddenly by the sensation of someone touching his arm. He jerked awake, and then jerked again when he saw Alfred crouching next to him with a lantern.

"Hey Artie, I have another stomach ache", he said, as he bit his lip. "Can you give me a belly rub?"

Arthur sat up and glared at Alfred, then rubbed his tired eyes.

"Goddamn it." He sighed and then added, "Ok come over here."

Alfred laid down on Arthur's cot in front of Arthur, clutching his stomach and whining. It was then that Arthur realized he would be touching Alfred's bare chest. Slowly and shyly, he lifted up Alfred's nightgown to reveal Alfred's bloomers. _Oh dear God, this is so inappropriate_ , he thought. He was certain that his face resembled a ripe tomato. Good thing it was dark. Then with a shaky hand he touched Alfred's stomach lightly. The glow of the nearby lantern illuminated Alfred's pectoral and abdominal muscles wonderfully. Arthur's face was so flushed that he felt hot. Slowly, he reached over his other hand and began massaging Alfred's lower stomach. Alfred closed his eyes and continued biting his lip. One of his hands clutched tightly onto the wool blanket. Arthur marveled at how smooth Alfred's bare chest was. It was as if he was touching silk. _This is not good_ , he thought. _This is really, really bad. What if he finds out somehow that I like him? Maybe it will show somehow? I think he's straight but I'm not sure. Maybe he's gay though?!God what do I do?_

Arthur's thought process was cut off suddenly when he heard Alfred giggling. He looked down in shock to see Alfred smirking at him and giggling. Arthur then realized that Alfred had never had a stomach ache.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?! OUT! RIGHT NOW! THAT IS REALLY NOT FUNNY ALFRED!"

Alfred laughed hysterically and said "Oh my god the look on your face!"

"OUT!"

"Ok, ok, fine."

Alfred exited the tent, taking his lantern with him, and Arthur sank back down into his bed, feeling rather embarrassed.


	10. Silence

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 10**

 _Those of you who have read my profile know that I am a college student. I am studying architecture, which has a reputation for being time consuming. I have a nice long winter break, and this year I used it for working and writing fanfiction. My goal was to have this story completed before I went back, but I've known for a while now that it's not going to happen. Originally, this story was going to be only seven chapters and I would have been able to finish it, but I've added more and more content. Now, it will most likely be 12 chapters, and I go back to school tomorrow morning. So, what this means for you, my faithful readers, is that the time it takes for me to finish the last couple of chapters is a bit unpredictable at this point. The story will however be completed._

* * *

Arthur stood in his dilapidated tent, sewing a green patch onto the brown roof. The piece of fabric had been stolen from one of his shirt cuffs, since he had nothing else to use. He found sewing relaxing, so having to do so wasn't such a bad thing. However, it was a bit annoying that he had to sacrifice a shirt cuff. _If only they had spare tents_ , he thought _._ Unfortunately, when Arthur asked colonel Hughes if there were any spares, he had said that all of the other tents were full, and that the only reason Arthur had a tent at all was because they were about to throw his out. Secretly, Arthur would have liked to sleep with Alfred in his bed. However, he knew that it would cause the soldiers to talk and to think strange things. Also, Arthur wasn't in the mood for talking to Alfred, so he never would have asked Alfred if he could at least sleep on the floor in his oversized, roomy tent. The last few days had been a bit awkward for Arthur. Ever since Alfred had tricked Arthur into thinking that he had a stomach ache a few nights before, Arthur had felt uncomfortable and embarrassed around Alfred. Not to mention that the incident had left Arthur not knowing what to do about his ever-growing feelings for Alfred. Arthur was not very good at expressing his feelings. Generally, Arthur had been avoiding Alfred as much as possible, and had been staying in his tent. However, he of course couldn't avoid Alfred completely since Alfred occasionally needed some medical attention. Every so often the short, stout, doctor, (who Arthur had learned was appropriately named Dr. Fuller), would ask Arthur to take care of Alfred for him while he went off and took care of the other soldiers. Dr. Fuller was convinced that Arthur had a "magic touch", as he called it, which unfortunately made the man call on Arthur for his help quite often, usually about two or three times per day. However, whenever Arthur was called to help, he was quiet around Alfred, and only made polite conversation. Physical contact was completely out of the question. Alfred had been behaving similarly to him, although Arthur wasn't sure why. Sitting next to Alfred on the bed and cuddling with him had made Arthur feel so warm inside that it was if he had been drunk, and Arthur wished more than anything that he could do that again, or that he could at least hold Alfred's hand for support. However, just the thought of talking to Alfred after what had happened recently made Arthur blush and feel shy. He was certain that Alfred had done it because he knew how Arthur felt about him. Why else would Alfred have smirked? If it was only a practical joke between two friends, surely Alfred would have just laughed, but Alfred had laughed and then smirked. Arthur finished sewing on the patch, then sat down with a sigh. He looked up from his cot, and eyed his handiwork. _That looks like it should keep out all of the rain_ , he thought to himself. His eyes then wandered to a short stack of envelopes lying on his brown leather saddlebag. Arthur reached over and picked them up. These letters had just been delivered to him earlier that morning by Quincy, who had rode in on a pony. Arthur remembered smiling as he saw the tiny boy on his tiny steed bounding across the field to him. Arthur missed having smaller nations to take care of sometimes, and even though the boy was human and not a nation, Arthur felt paternal feelings for him lately. He noticed when he was taking the letters and thanking Quincy that Quincy's shoes were so old that his toes stuck out in the front, where the soles had pulled apart from the rest of the shoe. Arthur had made a mental note to himself to do something about that upon his return. After all, Quincy had no parents. Richard had found the young tramp wandering the streets of London around the same time that Alfred had declared his independence, and had trained the lad to be Arthur's official messenger boy. Later, the boy was brought with them to America. However, Arthur unfortunately had not bonded with the boy much back then due to his drinking issue and due to stress. Arthur went through the stack, and found a few letters from various staff members regarding serious matters. He read these first. There was a letter from the head mason about the repairs on the stone wall. There was a letter from the head doctor reporting more causalities. Another was from the chef reporting a food shortage. There also was a letter from Richard, who Arthur considered to be more of a friend than a staff member.

 _Dear General Arthur Kirkland,_

 _I have notified the others of your reasons for leaving, just as you instructed me to do. Your boss is not aware of the situation yet since word travels slowly across an ocean. Most likely he will not be aware for a couple more months, when some American merchants will no doubt arrive in England and spill the beans while unloading their fish or selling their wares. Most people I speak to are relieved that there will be no more fighting. I guess that after the last battle, everyone must have lost hope in winning. Now, everyone just wants peace, including me. I admire you for making such a difficult decision by the way._

 _A lot has been happening here in the last few days. For one thing, the holes in the walls are starting to be repaired. Most of the men will be taking a boat home after the construction is complete. However, I, along with Quincy, and some of the important staff members will be staying. We will stay until you leave, which will be after you have signed the treaty._

 _The holes in the walls unfortunately let in some nasty rodents, and now there is a food shortage but the men are learning to fish from me. We have been catching many large fish from the ocean, and many of them are fish that we don't have back in England. They are quite delicious and plump. Also, the rats aren't bad if you sprinkle a little salt on them._

 _Quincy and I are doing well. Quincy is learning how to fish with the men and he is enjoying himself thoroughly, even though he needs someone to help him reel in the fish. I hope that you are doing as well as we are._

 _Best Regards, Richard_ _Mason_

Arthur smiled warmly knowing that his friend was thinking of him. _Now then, I guess I better start responding to these_ , he thought to himself. _I'll start with the urgent ones from the staff. Then I'll write to Richard._ Arthur pulled a pen and some parchment out of his bag and began to write.

* * *

Before Arthur knew it, two hours had passed. He sat there on his cot, with the finished letters in front of him and stretched his arms up _. Now_ _I just need to write to Richard_ , he thought. _Oh wait I nearly forgot, I wanted to write to Antonio, Lovino, and Feliciano some time too. It will take a couple of months to get to them by boat, but it would be worth it. I haven't written to them much this year, I should do that soon. Maybe I will later tonight if I get the chance._ His thought process was interrupted suddenly by the sound of Dr. Fuller's cheery voice from just outside of the tent.

"Arthur supper is ready. You should join colonel Hughes and I. We are eating around a campfire with the men."

Arthur did not think that colonel Hughes would be happy to see him, but Dr. Fuller was a kind, friendly man and he didn't want to say no to him.

"Sure, I'll follow you out."

With that, the two men exited the tent and went outside. Arthur followed Dr. Fuller to the large firepit, where there was a large stag roasting on a spit. Surrounding the deer there were rows and rows of log benches, all of which were arranged in circles. The men looked up from their plates of venison and potatoes and looked up at Arthur. There was still tension in the air, but a few of the soldiers greeted him politely. Surprisingly, colonel Hughes greeted him as well.

"Hello general Arthur, I see you've come to join us. Go over to the chef and he will serve you some food. The plates and such are in that crate."

"Thank you colonel Hughes."

Arthur grabbed a plate and the red-haired chef served him his food with a smile. Arthur thought that the camp members were being a bit more friendly than usual and he wondered why. Arthur did not want to question it however, and sat down on a log next to the doctor, who was happily shoving an entire potato in his mouth. It was a small potato, but it still made Arthur wonder how such a feat was even possible. As Arthur bit into the venison, he looked all around to try to find Alfred. Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, there was a loud clanging as the colonel hit his fork against his tin mug.

"Everyone, I have an announcement to make!"

The well-disciplined soldiers immediately stopped talking.

"Tonight we have a lot to celebrate! Of course for one thing, it is the Fourth of July today. But also, we should celebrate general Kirkland. I know what you're all thinking, but this man here has helped us out a lot over the past few days. General Kirkland has been taking very good care of Alfred, and for that we must thank him. Not only is Alfred improving and having less fits, but everyone else has been able to get some shut eye."

"Shall we get out a barrel of beer?", asked one of the soldiers.

"Yes! We should!", said another. "What better way to celebrate!? I will open one now!"

The man came back later with a whole barrel of beer, and promptly opened it up. Everyone lined up to fill their cups with the golden liquid.

"A toast to our country, to Arthur, to Arthur's country and to peace!", exclaimed the doctor.

Arthur smiled, finally feeling like he belonged at camp. He filled up his cup, and toasted with the men. Foam and beer sprayed out as the men smiled and toasted each other enthusiastically. Arthur ate his venison and potatoes as the men talked about their families at home, and about how excited they were to see them again. Most of Alfred's men would be going home very soon. Arthur drank until he felt warm and tingly inside. He was about to fill up his mug again when suddenly the doctor approached him.

"Arthur I'm sorry but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to check up on Alfred soon. I'm worried about him. Usually he joins us for dinner. Something must be wrong because he loves eating. Just make sure that you do it before you go to bed."

"Of course sir." Arthur paused then added "I will go right now as a matter of fact."

"Ok, we'll still be here later when you return. The men are going to set off some homemade fireworks. They spent all day making them today."

Arthur left, wondering to himself why Alfred was not at dinner earlier since he had successfully walked by himself yesterday. It concerned Arthur, which is why he had decided to check on him sooner rather than later. Arthur's stomach churned nervously as he approached the entrance to Alfred's tent. He exhaled slowly, then opened the flap. There, sitting on his bed on the bearskins was Alfred. He was dressed in his white shirt and tan breeches. His feet were bare. Alfred turned his head to look at Arthur. The two men stared at each other for a minute until Arthur broke the silence.

"I-I came to check up on you. Are you ok?"


	11. Sparks in Your Eyes

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Chapter 11**

 _I'm back! Sorry that it took a while, but just trust me when I say that this chapter will be worth the wait. ;) I still do not own Hetalia or its characters. I also did not write the Star-Spangled Banner. Enjoy!_

* * *

Alfred's brilliant blue eyes blinked slowly as he stared at Arthur. Arthur's breath caught in his throat as soon as the other man looked at him. _His gaze is hypnotic_ , I can't look away, Arthur realized. Suddenly Alfred spoke up, breaking Arthur's train of thought.

"My leg is doing well today if that's what you meant."

"N-no. Actually, I was wondering why you didn't join us for dinner tonight. But I'm glad to hear that."

Alfred sighed and diverted his gaze. "Don't worry, I got something to eat out of the food storage tent earlier. I guess you could say that I don't enjoy celebrating the Fourth of July. I know it sounds a bit ironic since I am America after all. All of my men love celebrating it, but I don't usually join. They always try to get me to but I don't want to. Freedom was a different experience for them than it was for me. For me, the date marks when our friendship ended. I was forced to end it, I didn't want to, so it's a bad memory for me."

"But Alfred, that's in the past isn't it? We're on good terms now. Why would today still make you sad?"

"...Are we on good terms?"

"Yes."

"Then why aren't you talking to me? I thought that something must be wrong. I thought maybe you changed your mind and didn't want to be friends anymore. So I stopped talking to you too. I thought things were bad again but I didn't know why."

 _He's so dense_ , thought Arthur. _Dear God this is so awkward to explain_. Arthur felt heat rise up into his face. He clenched his fists and looked down at the floor.

"I promise it's not that. You just made me feel...um...made me feel a bit awkward recently and I umm...I..."

"What do you mean?" Alfred interrupted.

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it again. _Damn I can't even look at him..._

"OH!" exclaimed Alfred suddenly. Arthur whipped his head around to see Alfred covering his mouth with his hand cutely and blushing. He looked up at Arthur and gave a guilty grin. "Sorry Artie, I know what you're talking about now."

Arthur's blush was now spreading to the tips of his ears. His palms were sweating as he looked nervously at Alfred.

"I'm sorry that I made you feel uncomfortable. I'm glad to know that that's all it was. Aww, Arthur you're so shy it's adorable! I guess I'm going to have to embarrass you more often so that I can keep seeing you blush like this!"

"Wait w-what?!"

Alfred laughed. "I'm just joking, don't worry!"

"Ok good. You scared me you idiot."

There was silence for a moment before Alfred spoke again. He smiled, and looked up at Arthur from his seat on the bed.

"I like you a lot Arthur. I have for a long time now. It started a couple of years before I declared independence. I just can't help it. You'll do anything for me, even sneak into my camp at night. And you always take such great care of me. When I had that really bad fit, you took my hand and held my face in the most tender and loving way possible. When I was younger you always acted the same way. In fact, I know this sounds weird because we're not even together or anything, but I think I might even love you."

Arthur's mouth fell open in shock after hearing Alfred's words. Arthur could tell he was being sincere from the way that he was smiling at him. _OH MY GOD, this is beyond anything I ever expected_ , thought Arthur. _I can hardly believe this. Not only is he apparently not straight, but he actually likes me! He's liked me for so long and I didn't even know it! This explains why his freedom from me hurt him so much. And he might even love me!_ Every atom in Arthur's body sang with excitement and Arthur's heartbeat sped up until the pounding was loud in his ears.

"I-I really like you too."

Arthur stared at the other man with a dumbfounded expression on his face as Alfred's face lit up into a huge smile. Next, Arthur said something that surprised both of them.

"Alfred I want to help you make new memories of the Fourth of July. And then, you will think back to tonight instead of thinking of the past."

Now it was Alfred's turn to feel shocked. Alfred's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. Arthur was feeling very nervous, but now that he knew that Alfred felt the same way, there was no going back. He found himself walking over towards Alfred, who was still sitting down on his bearskins and staring at Arthur. Arthur sat down next to Alfred on the bed. They were sitting with their legs dangling over the edge, and with their bodies facing towards the main entrance of the tent. Arthur stared intensely at Alfred's face, which was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Nearby on the nightstand, there were several candles slowly burning down. Arthur saw a flicker of orange fire reflected in Alfred's eyes, as if it was showing how he was feeling at the moment. Arthur's heart pounded faster and faster as he thought about what he wanted to do. _Oh fuck it_ , he thought. Then he leaned in and placed his soft lips on Alfred's. Alfred's eyes widened more, and his pupils dilated with excitement. Arthur placed one hand on Alfred's broad, muscular back, and used his other hand to cradle Alfred's head lovingly. Arthur kissed the other man softly and tenderly. He had to stretch his neck up a bit since Alfred was taller, but to Arthur it still felt perfect. Alfred relaxed after getting over his initial surprise, and quickly wrapped his arms around Arthur's smaller, lithe body. He dipped his head down to deepen the kiss and also so that Arthur wouldn't have to reach his head up so much. Arthur considered slipping his tongue inside of Alfred's mouth, but he decided it was best to just take things slowly, and save a kiss like that for later. This was already heaven anyway. Arthur was enveloped in Alfred's strong, warm, arms and he felt so safe, more safe than ever before. Alfred's lips massaged his slowly, sending tingles up his spine and sparks into his bloodstream with every movement that they made. Eventually, Arthur realized that he was running out of breath. He withdrew from the kiss, panting slightly and still holding Alfred. Alfred looked down at him, his blue eyes fixated and filled with love for Arthur. Alfred's hair was now a disheveled mess, but Arthur found it quite attractive. A light dusting of pink covered both of their faces as they caught their breath and stared at each other once more.

"Not going to lie Artie, that was amazing. I've wanted to do that for a long time."

Arthur's blush intensified and Alfred smirked.

"I know you loved it too, I can tell," Alfred said when he realized that Arthur was not going to respond. "Artie can we cuddle again?"

"Uhhh...y-yes."

"Yayyyyy! I loved it so much when we cuddled before! Thank you!"

Arthur smiled at Alfred's youthful excitement. He then let go of Alfred, and moved himself so that he was lying down on the bed. Alfred followed him, and positioned himself so that he was facing Arthur. He wrapped his muscular arms around Arthur and pulled him tightly. Arthur smiled softly, feeling very relaxed, and closed his green eyes. He rested his head against Alfred's chest, and entangled his legs in Alfred's. He realized that he could smell Alfred's scent, which seemed to be a mixture of hay and earth. It was a masculine scent, and Arthur liked it very much. He also noticed that he could hear Alfred's heartbeat from this position. His heart was still beating quickly after the kiss. _It beats fast for me_ , Arthur thought to himself. Arthur nuzzled his nose on Alfred's chest and placed a light kiss on it.

"You will never be alone on the Fourth of July again Alfred", Arthur mumbled.

Alfred did not respond, but Arthur felt Alfred wrap his arms more tightly around his frame. Arthur sighed in contentment, and realized that Alfred's heartbeat was starting to slow down and become more relaxed. Suddenly, there was a loud boom. Arthur and Alfred jumped, and turned their heads in the direction of the back door, where the sound had come from.

"Oh it's just the fireworks starting." Alfred stated. He then turned to Arthur and smirked. "They scared you too didn't they?"

"N-no of course not!"

"Right," Alfred said, still smirking.

Then there was the faint sound of men singing in the distance, about 100 feet away from the tent.

 _Oh say can you see by the dawn's early light,_

 _What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?_

 _Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,_

 _O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?_

 _And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,_

 _Gave proof through the night, that our flag was still there._

 _Oh say does that star-spangled banner yet wave,_

 _O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?_

Arthur looked back towards Alfred as the song ended and the men started sending off more fireworks.

"This is a perfect Fourth of July Artie. Thank you," Alfred said over the fireworks.

Arthur smiled up at Alfred, then returned his head to Alfred's chest. The two men stayed in that position all night, as the fireworks crackled and exploded overhead in the night sky. As soon as the fireworks ended, both drifted off into a deep and peaceful sleep.


	12. Epilogue

**Twilight's Last Gleaming - Epilogue**

 _Hello again everyone, it's been far too long. My apologies. My second semester of my second year of college is going well so far, but it sure has kept me busy! Now I want to just mention before I start that my intention is for this to be the last chapter. This chapter is an epilogue actually. However, I am a huge fan of the USUK pairing, so I might make another USUK story. We'll see. If anyone has any suggestions about what I should write about next, let me know! Also, I still do not own Hetalia or it's characters. Or Thomas Hobbes or the Leviathan for that matter. This chapter is inspired by actual historical events._

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The date was September 3rd, 1783. It was a day that would change everything. The balance of power would be shifted, and the whole world would be shaken as a new world power arose from nothing. From now on, the country of America was officially free. Alfred's leg had healed nicely, and Arthur had left the American camp to return back to his own fort. Most of his men had already left. Only the most important men had stayed. Also, Arthur's boss had insisted that a small force of soldiers stay positioned at the fort, even though the war was over. Arthur had begrudgingly agreed to do so, and so the broken wall had been repaired in order to protect the remaining soldiers. Now Arthur and Alfred were in Paris, to sign the treaty that would end the war officially, and give America it's freedom. The two blonde men were standing on a semi-circular stage in front of a huge crowd of people. Alfred and Arthur each stood at a podium, and behind them, were their bosses and other high-ranking officials. The large gathering hall was completely filled, and there was much excitement in the air. The crowd looked at the stage in anticipation and the combination of thousands of voices together created a roar. Arthur looked over at Alfred and his emerald eyes met happy, sparkling blue ones. Alfred gave Arthur that lopsided grin of his, and nodded. He then reached to a piece of parchment on his podium stand and held it up so that everyone could see. Slowly, a hush fell over the grand hall.

"Everyone, I am very happy to be here today with this man here, Arthur. Arthur is a very special individual."

Arthur smiled softly, and looked down shyly at his podium.

"I am also very pleased to see so many people here today. I want to thank you all very much for joining us today on such a special occasion."

"And I thank all of you as well", Arthur added. "If anyone would like refreshments, there are scones and tea in the back. Now without further a due, I'd like to explain how I came to be standing here on this stage today."

Arthur looked out at the crowd, into the eyes of thousands of individuals, all fixated on him. Some of these people had traveled quite far. Arthur spotted a man who he recognized to be none other than Gilbert Beilschmidt. He was easy to pick out due to his unusual hair color. Arthur also saw Francis, who was hosting the event since it was in his home country. He also spotted Richard, who had Quincy on his shoulders. Quincy was waving at Arthur, and his tiny, crooked teeth were lit up into a smile. Arthur smiled back, and continued his speech.

"As expressed by Thomas Hobbes, all men are inherently evil. It is something which I have recently discovered for myself. We all have the ability, whether down somewhere deep inside of us, buried by morals, or just at the surface, about to boil over, to commit evil deeds. Hatred is man's worst enemy. It can consume, like a fire might consume a house, very quickly. It can muddle the mind and make even a seemingly good man go insane. Sometimes we hate because we are afraid of people who are different than us. Other times, hatred is caused by jealousy or past happenings. And sometimes, hatred is kindled when we don't understand the other."

Arthur paused from his speech, and looked over at Alfred.

"The world would be a much more peaceful place if we would all just try to understand each other better. Sometimes, you must put yourself in the other person's shoes in order to resolve an issue, or in order to forgive someone. A lot of the time, there is a reason behind the other's actions. A good reason. The world needs more understanding and it needs...it needs...more love."

Once again, Arthur looked over to his right at Alfred. He saw that Alfred was smiling at him happily. Arthur smiled back.

"I encourage you all not to jump to conclusions, not to judge too quickly, but instead to try to understand others more. I myself have been a bit ignorant. I did not understand...many things. I did not understand the importance of freedom and how valuable it is. I also did not recognize the fact that Alfred did not need my assistance anymore, and I continued to try to force it on him. His response, I have realized, was understandable. I put myself in his shoes. Today, I give him and the nation of America as a whole the freedom to do as they please. Also, I wish to re-kindle an old, sacred bond between the western world and the east. For we are far stronger together than we are apart."

Arthur reached over his left hand, and extended it out to Alfred. He grabbed hold of Alfred's hand and raised it up so that the whole crowd could see. The crowd cheered loudly and Arthur almost wished that he could let go of Alfred's hand so that he could cover his ears. However, he didn't want to because Alfred's hand was warm, and fit perfectly in his. It was as if their hands were designed for each other. Arthur and Alfred shared yet another look. To the crowd, it would appear that two friends were happily making up. However, in their eyes there was love. Only they knew the true extent of the situation. Alfred then dropped Arthur's hand and picked up the same piece of parchment from before. He handed it to Arthur, who spoke again.

"This document was created only hours ago, and we have already agreed upon it's conditions. Firstly, The United States of America will be acknowledged as free, and England shall give up its powers over the region. Secondly, Alfred has agreed to return all property stolen from Loyalists. Lastly, we have collectively decided to remove our troops still remaining in America."

With that being said, the crowd cheered loudly again. Arthur picked up his quill from the ink bottle, and signed his name onto the bottom of the document. He then passed the treaty and the pen to Alfred, who also signed it. Alfred held up the signed document enthusiastically. People were hugging each other, people were crying, and people were laughing in disbelief. Alfred and Arthur shared yet another smile, after seeing how happy their citizens were.

"Alright everyone, now don't forget that there's refreshments!" exclaimed Arthur. There was a sudden silence in the crowd, and a hesitation before a few brave souls ventured up to the refreshment table.

"Alas, some things never change", said Alfred with a smirk.

"What do you mean?"

"Well even though you're not being an asshole anymore, you still can't cook."

Arthur's mouth fell open.

"YOU TWAT! I BET YOU HAVEN'T EVEN TRIED A SCONE YET, HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!"

"Well they are visibly blackened", replied Alfred calmly. "Also someone just projectile vomited after trying one. And that person looks dead."

"WHY YOU..."

"Will you two shut up?" Asked an angry, familiar voice with an Italian accent.

Arthur spun around, to see Lovino and Feliciano Vargas standing there with Antonio. His face lit up and he completely forgot his argument with Alfred for the time being.

"I-I didn't know that any of you three would be coming! What a wonderful surprise! It's really been far too long."

"Yes, it has!" said Feliciano, before attacking Arthur with a hug. "Oh wait! Does Alfred mind me hugging you Arthur?"

"W-wait what?! W-why would he mind? What on God's good earth are you implying here Feliciano?"

Feliciano only smiled.

Alfred looked over at Arthur and smirked. Arthur responded by blushing an intense shade of scarlet. Alfred was still staring at him.

"You know what he means Artie."

"No I have absolutely no idea actually."

"Sure, whatever. Anyway, how are the three of you?"

"Well I have kept myself very busy with exploring lately. Also, Lovino has been accompanying me on most of my recent voyages. We like being around each other a lot. I enjoy having company during a long trip." Antonio then smiled innocently at Lovino, who stammered and looked taken aback.

"I-it's not that bad I guess."

"Wow Lovino, really?" Antonio's eyes lit up.

Lovino did not respond. Instead Feliciano started talking.

"Lovino and I have been going to art classes! We are learning a lot! And Lovino doesn't like them quite as much as I do, but he gets free food! And..."

"Excuse me, I just wanted to say to you that I thought your speech was very moving Arthur," said a voice from behind Arthur.

Arthur turned his head to see Richard standing there with Quincy.

"I want to be like you when I grow up Arthur!" Piped Quincy. Arthur looked down at the young boy and smiled warmly.

"Thank you very much Richard, you're always so supportive, and Quincy I have something for you."

Arthur reached into his coat pocket and removed a small pair of shoes, finely made with real leather. He bent down to Quincy's height and placed the shoes in Quincy's small hands.

"These are for you. Don't go splashing in any mud puddles with them though, do you hear me? You'll ruin them."

Quincy smiled, and hugged Arthur. Arthur paused, before smiling and hugging Quincy back.

"Ok I promise."

"Hey Artie, I hate to ruin the moment, but I'm pretty sure that guy actually is dead. We should probably do something about it."


End file.
